


Stories We Tell Ourselves

by katnissdoesnotfollowback (lost_on_cloud_9)



Series: Oneshot Collection [4]
Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: Bullying, F/M, Friends to Lovers, not each other, then what would be the point?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-11
Updated: 2017-07-11
Packaged: 2018-12-01 00:47:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11475099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lost_on_cloud_9/pseuds/katnissdoesnotfollowback
Summary: In which Everlark is really good at forcing each other out of their comfort zones. Based on a prompt: best friends/you can't make me, originally written in June 2016.WARNINGS: RATED T and up, depictions of bullying, foul language





	Stories We Tell Ourselves

Katniss unfolds her book and sets it on her desk so no one can see her cry. The teacher’s words drone on as she holds back all her fears and tears. He left them. She doesn’t understand why he just left them. He always said he loved them more than anything. And he just  _ left _ . At eleven years old, she might not know much about the world or love, but she does know deep in her bones that if you love someone, you  _ never _ leave them behind.

 

“Katniss,” the teacher’s voice finally cuts through the fog of hurt. Miss Trinket’s tinkling soprano warble grates on her nerves. She lowers her book just enough to see her teacher watching her expectantly, fuschia lips pursed together. 

 

“Please help our new student as needed,” Miss Trinket says in exasperation, hand motioning to Katniss’ left as the class sniggers. 

 

“Think they’re made for each other?” Cato sneers behind her to her right. “Couple ‘a losers right there.”

 

Her anger burns in her veins. An inferno ready to unleash and smash Cato’s nose in. The rumors about her parents have already made it through town. One day. One day is all it took for all of them to know her father had walked out on his wife and two daughters. They all knew her daddy hadn’t really loved her.

 

A movement to her left catches her attention, though, and Katniss looks sharply towards the desk Miss Trinket had waved to. An unfamiliar boy with unruly blond hair sits hunched in the chair, shoulders curled as he meticulously unloads his school supplies into the desk cubbies. As though curling in on himself like that will make him invisible. An odd purple bruise peeks out of the collar of his shirt. For just a second, his eyes flicker over to hers before they focus back on what he’s doing.

 

Blue. Like the sky in spring.

 

As Miss Trinket proceeds with the lesson, Katniss huffs and fixes her eyes on her social studies book, annoyed that on the worst day of her life, she’s saddled with the new kid. When they dismiss for lunch, he thankfully stays back from her, although every few minutes or so, she feels eyes on her. Whipping her head around, she keeps finding him watching her, only for his eyes to dart away again.

 

She sits alone at lunch, propping her social studies book on the table as a barrier between her and her classmates, grateful the new boy didn’t do anything weird like follow her. It’s not until she heads out to the playground for recess that she sees him again.

 

A soft sound of distress catches her ear. Her feet move automatically, stealthily, towards the brick walls enclosing the dumpster. Harsh laughter. Scuffling and papers being torn to shreds.

 

“Please don’t,” a quiet voice pleads.

 

Katniss peeks around the wall and watches as Marvel holds the new boy against the dumpster. Blood trickles from his nose as he struggles to escape Marvel’s grasp. Cato stands a few feet away, tearing page after page from a thin black notebook before shredding them and dropping them in one of the puddles of filth that seem to congregate around dumpsters.

 

“I knew you were a worthless pussy,” Cato sneers, dropping the decimated notebook on the ground before stalking towards the new boy. “Bet your Daddy hates you, too. That where you got the bruises?”

 

Incredible pain flashes in the boy’s eyes and Katniss feels her anger mounting again, propelling her into foolishness. She can’t stand it a second longer. 

 

They’re all too occupied to notice her, Marvel restraining the new boy, Cato preparing to punch, the boy fidgeting in an attempt to escape. She slinks into the space behind them, palming her social studies book. She stops just behind Cato and taps him on the shoulder. As soon as he turns around, she unleashes her anger at her father and Cato himself, swinging the book so hard it connects dully with Cato’s skull. He stumbles sideways, eyes dazed, as Marvel finally releases the new boy and grabs her, they scuffle for a second and then Marvel’s palm connects with her cheek, stinging enough to pull tears and stars out of her eyes. She falls to her knees, regretting her brash actions.

 

Then Marvel is torn away from her, his body slammed into the dumpster. Katniss peeks through her fingers as Marvel slides to the ground, holding his hands over his head as the new boy punches him repeatedly. Cato has regained his feet and grasps the back of the new boy’s shirt, but he jabs an elbow back. Cato’s nose snaps with a crack and the two boys scramble away.

 

The new boy collapses to the ground, and worried he’s been seriously hurt, Katniss crawls over to him. As her hands land his arms, though, he scurries away from her and leans against the dumpster. 

 

“Hey, it’s okay,” she says. “They’re gone now.”

 

“No, it’s not okay,” he whispers. “I didn’t wanna do that.”

 

“What were you supposed to do?” Katniss asks angrily. “They were being jerks.”

 

“No, no, it’s not okay. I’m just like her,” he moans. “I don’t wanna be like her.”

 

“Like who?” Katniss asks, confused. He cups one hand over the purple bruise and whispers brokenly.

 

“My mother.”

 

Stunned, Katniss shifts to sit next to him, curling her knees up and holding them to her chest. They sit in silence, the boy curled in on himself again and rocking himself. Eventually, Katniss reaches out and picks up his destroyed notebook, opening the cover and finding a beautiful world laid out on the page.

 

“Did you draw these?” she asks in wonder.

 

“Yes,” he says. “You think I’m a wimp, too, don’t you.”

 

He states it heavily, doesn’t ask it. Katniss flattens some of the wrinkled pages and sets it next to him.

 

“I think they’re amazing,” she says and the boy looks up at her, confusion in his eyes. 

 

“My Daddy walked out on me and my Mama and my little sister yesterday,” she says brokenly, and finally lets a single tear fall down her cheek. The boy reaches out a shaking hand and swipes the tear with his thumb.

 

“He must be stupid,” the boy says, and Katniss smiles weakly at him. “We’re gonna get in trouble, aren’t we?”

 

“Maybe,” she says with a shrug. She doesn’t really care. Cato needed a good whack to the head. “I’m Katniss.”

 

“I know,” he says and then blushes as she scowls slightly. “Miss Trinket said your name this morning.”

 

“Oh,” she says, suddenly feeling guilty. “I didn’t hear yours. I wasn’t paying a lot of attention.”

 

“That’s okay,” he says quietly and then extends his hand towards her. “I’m Peeta.”

 

With her first real smile in days, she accepts his hand and they shake. Helping one another up off the ground, they head back to the playground and join the lines forming to return to class. Cato and Marvel return later with notes from the nurse. Katniss’ heart pounds in her chest, but they must not have told, because she and Peeta are left alone the rest of the day.

 

****************************************

 

“Found something that might interest you,” Katniss says and stands next to Peeta’s locker, tapping the yellow flyer against her lips and smiling at him. Her smile dies when she see’s the red welt just beneath his right eye. She fucking hates his mother. And she fucking hates CPS in this town, because even though she’s called in half a dozen anonymous tips, nothing has happened.

 

“Oh yeah?” Peeta smiles at her like nothing’s wrong. Shakes his head slightly when he sees her scowl. “What’s that?”

 

He easily snags the paper from her limp hands. Then he frowns as he reads the words.

 

“Katniss, I don’t want to do anything like this,” he says and hands the flyer back before reaching into his locker for his math book, loose leaf paper crammed into it with sloppy equations on the lines and perfect drawings on the margins.

 

“Why not?” she asks in exasperation. It’d be good for him. A controlled way to let loose the thinly veiled anger and frustration she so often sees simmering in his eyes. Not to mention all those assholes would maybe finally leave him alone after he wins a few matches. She’s tired of watching her best friend shrug away the near constant stream of insults.

 

“I just don’t,” he says forcefully and slams his locker shut. Her mouth gapes as she crumples the paper before shoving it in her bag. Peeta never gets mad at her.

 

“Okay,” she says softly and whirls away from him. She walks alone to their math classroom and sits stiffly in her seat, ignoring him as he lowers himself into the desk next to hers, tearing a sheet from his notebook and handing it to her.

 

_ I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to lose my temper with you. _

 

She lifts her chin and responds as Mr. Latier walks in and immediately starts writing on the chalkboard.

 

_ I was just trying to help. _

 

They’ve been in junior high for a month now, and so far, it’s no different than elementary school. The same bullies, the same crap. Insults about Peeta’s artistic talent and his refusal to throw a punch. Slurs about her heroin addicted mother and the blow jobs Mrs. Everdeen gives out just to pay for her habit, the part time jobs Katniss holds down to keep food on the table. Katniss just wants to try to change things.

 

_ I know. I’ll tryout if you do. _

 

She reads the note and stares at the bright purple flyer behind it. Choir auditions. Her hands shake and when she looks over at Peeta, he’s seemingly focused on Mr. Latier’s lecture. But she knows that tonight, they’ll be sprawled on her bed with her explaining it in terms Peeta can understand. Then he’ll coach her through their lit homework. She smiles and pulls the yellow flyer announcing tryouts for the wrestling team back out of her bag.

 

Flattening the paper on her desk, she writes one word on the paper before handing him the note and the yellow flyer.

 

_ Deal. _

 

He’s at every concert and she’s at every match for the next two years. 

 

***************************************

 

“Do it again,” Peeta insists, snatching the cards from her hands and holding them behind his back.

 

“Peeta, I need those,” Katniss whines, grasping for the index cards.

 

“No, you don’t,” he says firmly. “You’ve read it a million times already.”

 

“Then you give the damn speech,” she snarls. “You’re better at this stuff anyways.”

 

“I’m not the valedictorian,” he says with a grin. “You are.”

 

She clambers up his frame, but he twists and pins her to the bed, the cards held high above them, well out of her reach. Her middle swoops at the sudden disorientation.

 

“Say it again,” Peeta demands with a smirk. She huffs and starts the speech, but she’s only five sentences in when Peeta’s frown halts her. He releases her and sits back, shuffling the cards as she folds her arms across her chest.

 

“What did I do wrong? Did I skip something?”

 

“No,” he says and ruffles his hair. “You just sound like--”

 

“Like a robot,” she says and he nods. “It’s what Principle Heavensbee said, too when we had practice today. I can’t do this, Peeta.”

 

“You get on a stage and sing solos in front of the entire school,” Peeta encourages.

 

“Not the same,” she moans and grabs a pillow, stuffing her face in it.

 

“Why not?” Peeta asks softly.

 

“That’s singing,” she says with a wild gesture of her hands that makes the pillow drop. 

 

“Would it help if you picture the entire audience in their underwear?” he asks with a grin. She snorts and pushes him playfully. Then he shudders. “You’re right, bad idea.”

 

They run it again with equally disastrous results, and then Peeta snaps his fingers, rushing over to the small radio in the corner and turning on some soft music.

 

“Sing it this time,” he says. With a skeptical glance at Peeta, Katniss stands from the bed and paces, getting a feel for the music as he settles on her comforter with an expectant look. When she finally halts and goes through the speech again, he doesn’t interrupt once, and the smile on his face when she finally finishes her speech tells her that she nailed it this time.

 

****************************************

 

“No,” Peeta whispers, digging his heels into the hot pavement, his sandals slipping a little on the dusting of loose gravel. She’s determined, though, and they move a few more feet towards the ride that caught her eye hours ago. His volume and pitch rises with each word he speaks, and she ignores it. “No, Katniss please. You can’t make me do this.”

 

“Come on, Peeta,” she looks back over her shoulder at him and rolls her eyes. “It’s not  _ that  _ high. Besides, these things are so controlled it’s ridiculous.”

 

His blue eyes are honed in on the ride, though, as he swallows, his head shaking slightly.

 

“Can’t we just ride the Egg Scrambler again?” he begs.

 

She snorts, so bored already with the ride that simply spins you around, even if it does make some fancy looping patterns. She’s craving something a little more thrilling, but Peeta’s balking at the Sky Coaster. 

 

“We’ve ridden that like six hundred times already,” she says in exasperation.

 

“Okay, so the Tilt-a-Whirl, or the Log Flume,” Peeta jabbers as she manages to gain two more feet towards her goal. “You know I’m afraid of heights.”

 

It’s his last desperately hissed words that stop her in her tracks. She does know. 

 

But she also knows that his crazy suggestion that she try to sing her Valedictorian speech had somehow paid off. In the end, she had focused solely on him as she spoke, the words lilting off her tongue to the music playing in her head. And it wasn’t nearly as bad as she’d thought it would be. Even at that distance, she could feel the steadiness that Peeta brings to everything.

 

She knows that in two and a half months, when they walk through the doors of Panem High for the first time, he’ll be by her side. He’s already changed around his class schedule, foregoing the advanced writing class he wanted to take just so she wouldn’t be alone in her first period math class, even though he hates math. When she told him he didn’t have to, he just shrugged and said there was always next semester.

 

The least she can do is help him get over his fear of heights. But as she watches Peeta nervously fidgeting, biting his lip and wincing when his lower lip gets caught on his braces, she takes pity on him.

 

“Okay,” she says and drops his hand. “Let’s go play a game.”

 

Peeta heaves a sigh of relief and falls into step beside her as they make their way down the brightly lit rows of the summer fair, in search of games of chance. 

 

They pause at each booth and watch a few people play, examining the angles until Katniss finally settles on a sharp shooters game. The man looks askance at them, surprised when Peeta hands over the money while Katniss gets herself set up. It’s nothing compared to the look of astonishment on his face as she smirks and points to the stuffed kitty cat on the top shelf, claiming her prize.

 

“For Prim,” she tells Peeta as she tucks the yellow thing under her arm. It’s an awful neon yellow and looks nothing like a real cat, but her eleven year old sister will adore the ugly thing.

 

For the next hour, they wander through the fair. Katniss wins a giant teddy bear that she presents to Peeta, and he buys them a funnel cake to share. Their fingers keep bumping as they tussle over the funnel cake, and Katniss giggles when Peeta snatches a piece right from under her fingers, flinging grease and powdered sugar onto his t-shirt in revenge. As they eat, though, his eyes keep flickering up towards the Sky Coaster. She doesn’t say a word, knowing that eventually, his courage will win out and he’ll give her exactly what she wants. If she just gives him space.

 

Once the sugary treat is demolished and the grease soaked paper plate disposed of, Peeta wipes his fingers on his shorts and nods, as if deciding something monumental.

 

“Okay, fine,” he says. “We’ll ride the Sky Coaster. But if I die, I’m coming back to haunt you.”

 

“You’re not gonna die, Peeta,” she teases. “I forbid it.”

 

“No, I’m serious, Katniss. And I won’t be a nice ghost about it either. I will interrupt your first kiss and scare the shit out of your first boyfriend. Oh and good luck on your wedding night.”

 

Her cheeks heat a little at Peeta’s teasing words. She knows he’d never do anything like that, though, even as a ghost. He’s just too kind.

 

“Well the thing is, we’ll be riding together,” she says and laces their fingers together to prove it to him. “So if you plummet to your death, I’m going with you.”

 

Peeta glances skyward for a second, face scrunched as though seriously considering this option. Finally he shrugs.

 

“Okay, I can live with that,” he says and marches towards the ride with her in tow.

 

He grips her hand as they get in line and doesn’t let go until it’s their turn and the operator straps them into the bright purple sling.

 

“I hate you for making me do this,” he says as the chords tighten, lifting them back and up off the staging platform. She glances over at him, his eyes squeezed shut. It takes some doing, but she manages to lean over enough to kiss his cheek. His eyes fly open and hone in on hers. She’s blushing and regretting her impulsive act. Peeta’s her best friend. She doesn’t want him getting the wrong idea.

 

“Would it help if you pictured everyone on the ground in their underwear?” she asks in mock innocence, and Peeta laughs.

 

“It might,” he says and brushes his fingers against hers. Despite the operator’s warning to keep their hands crossed over their chests, she shifts her fingers to lace them together once more just as they jolt to a halt at the peak of their arc.

 

“Ready?” she asks excitedly.

 

“No,” he says miserably and with a loud click, the ride releases them to swing downward.

 

************************************

 

“No way,” she says and crosses her arms, scowling at her best friend. “You didn’t say this was going to be in a cave.”

 

“If I can ride the Sky Coaster, you can do this,” he says and folds his arms to mirror her stance. 

 

Katniss glances around him at the group getting ready to enter the haunted house. Or rather  _ cave _ . She hates being underground.  _ Hates  _ it. And Peeta knows that. Even the laughing faces of several of their high school classmates aren’t enough to tempt her in there, just to prove them all wrong about her.

 

“If I die, I’m coming back to haunt you,” she tells him and savors his smile at her use of his words.

 

“Come on, Katniss,” he says, holding his arm out to her. “We’ll stick together, okay?”

 

“Stay with me or I’ll kill you,” she snaps, pointing her finger accusingly at him and jabbing his chest.

 

“Always,” he murmurs, looping their arms together before they head into the darkness.

 

*************************************

 

“Good morning, Panem! It’s a beautiful day today. Sunshine with a light breeze and a chance for withering scowls if the lovely Miss Katniss Everdeen will ever--” Katniss shouts as the sheets are ripped from her body. “--GET HER ASS OUT OF BED!”

 

“Peeta!” she screeches, immediately regretting it as she flings her pillow at him, he catches it and laughs, tossing it to the ground while she rolls over and tries to go back to sleep. Her head is pounding and she feels like shit. Her mouth foul with fuzz. Ugh. She didn’t brush her teeth before she passed out last night. Er...this morning. Either way, gross.

 

“I’ll go start some coffee for you!” he shouts and she groans, ready to kill him for this as she presses her face into the mattress and holds her hands to her throbbing cranium. Her best friend is an asshole. He should know better than to antagonize her when she’s hungover.

 

And now her stomach is revolting. She pulls in a deep breath and holds it, face scrunching as she realizes, the mattress smells wrong. Well, not wrong. She actually loves this scent, but it’s not her mattress. Lifting her head, Katniss squints against the morning light and meets the beaded black eyes of a faded giant teddy bear, sitting in the corner. She’s in Peeta’s room. Which means she was wasted enough last night that he brought her to his place, to watch over her.

 

Katniss groans again, overwhelmed with what is probably her monumental failure to act like a decent friend last night. If she slept here, it means that Cressida did not. Katniss can’t even remember what happened last night. 

 

As her innards pitch and heave, she vows to never drink that much again, promotions be damned. Taking deep breaths, she waits for the nausea to pass before she reluctantly stands and staggers over to Peeta’s dresser, opening the bottom left drawer to pull out a pair of athletic shorts and then the middle right to retrieve a t-shirt. The scent of coffee reaches her as she stumbles down the hall to his bathroom and basically falls into the shower.

 

She washes and then just lets the warm water and steam relax her muscles and hopefully pull some of the toxins from her body when the door opens and Peeta’s now much quieter voice reaches her.

 

“Breakfast is ready. I put a towel on the sink for you.”

 

She swipes back her hair and peeks around the curtain, scowling at him. He’s already dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. Immaculate despite the floppy waves of his hair, and seemingly unfazed by last night. Peeta laughs at her expression.

 

“You’re welcome, sunshine,” he says and retreats.

 

Finishing quickly, Katniss dresses in his clothes and pads into the kitchen, where Peeta is just placing plates heaped with toast and scrambled eggs on the table, next to mugs of coffee. Katniss moans and falls into her seat, her earlier nausea having been replaced by a ravenous hunger. When was the last time she ate? She can’t remember.

 

“Hey,” Peeta says, plucking at the shirt she’s wearing. “Normally I don’t care when you raid my closet, but I’m running out of shirts. At least bring some of them back, okay?”

 

Katniss shrugs and swipes a sausage link from his plate, moaning around the taste of it.

 

“Payment for me putting up with your asshole tendencies,” she says with a tilt of her head.

 

“Now you’re stealing my sausage, too,” Peeta shakes his head in mock disapproval, adding sugar to her coffee but not his. “I should have left you at that bar.”

 

“You’d leave me drunk and helpless on the night of my big promotion?” she asks, gasping in horror.

 

“You don’t get to act all pure, Everdeen,” Peeta says and chews his toast for a minute before going on. “You forget that I know everything about you, and you are far from helpless. Even when you’re drunk.”

 

She opens her mouth to retort, but the cheerful ringing of his phone cuts her off. Peeta wipes his hand on his napkin and glances at the screen, brow furrowing.

 

“I don’t know this number,” he says and holds the device up for her to examine. “Do you?”

 

She swallows thickly and gives him her most guileless smile. “It’s Cressida’s number.”

 

“Cressida?” he asks, and she can see him working through names until his eyes light with recognition. “The girl from last night? The one you’re working with on the film project, right?”

 

She nods guiltily and Peeta sighs, setting the phone aside.

 

“You should answer,” Katniss says, and Peeta gives her an exasperated look. “What? She likes you. And she’s hot.”

 

“Okay, while I can agree with you on that last part, Katniss, you’ve got to stop this.”

 

“Oh please,” she says in what she hopes is a teasing and not a bitter voice. “You’re not doing anything to break your dry spell, so as your best friend, that duty falls to me.”

 

“I never asked you to hook me up with anyone, Katniss,” Peeta says in a surprisingly angry tone. 

 

“You don’t have to,” she says with a shrug, still refusing to meet his eyes. “I’m happy to help.”

 

Peeta grumbles under his breath, and Katniss kicks his shin under the table. “What did you say?”

 

“I said you need to stop trying to get me laid. It makes me feel pathetic.”

 

“Why?” she asks, genuinely curious. All she wants is for her friend to be happy. He’s such a hopeless romantic, and he deserves the kind of love he wants. The kind that comes with poetry and long walks on the beach, half a dozen kids and growing old together, watching half a decade’s worth of sunsets from rocking chairs on his porch with his hand twined with someone who adores him as much as she does.

 

Not that she wants to be that person. She’s not interested in marriage or family or any of those other things people seem to think make a life worth living. Her father walking out on them and her mother’s subsequent fall into heroin usage showed her that even the most overwhelming love is just an illusion. But she can’t stand to disillusion her best friend. She wants him to find what she knows she never will.

 

“Because,” Peeta explains, lifting his coffee mug to drink, but his blue eyes sparkle in laughter. “Given how long you’ve known me, you ought to be better about choosing blind dates for me by now.”

 

She kicks him again and he drops one hand to catch her foot, holding it against his thigh. She doesn’t struggle to get it back.

 

“No one could live up to your impossible standards,” she says. “What didn’t you like about Cressida?”

 

It’s true. Every girl she’s set Peeta up with, she’s been sure. He  _ had _ to fall in love with this one. But they never made it past a handful of dates. Whenever Katniss would ask him what happened, he’d shrug and tell her that he just hadn’t  _ felt _ it, but thank you for trying, before he changed the subject.

 

She doesn’t get it. She knows everything about Peeta. She can predict when he’ll lose his carefully controlled temper, can read his expressions. Knows what he’ll order at each of their favorite places to eat to the point that they automatically exchange food they don’t want rather than special order anything. He takes her tomatoes, she takes his onions. If he orders fries but she gets a salad, he never complains when she snags a few. He’s kind and passionate and gorgeous. Practically fucking perfect.

 

Katniss is determined this time around, though. Cressida would be great for him. She’s artsy and smart, with a great sense of adventure and a highly developed sense of justice. Katniss met Cressida when the young woman had come to her office looking to utilize some of the county’s park expanses to film her latest political documentary. After a few minutes conversation with the woman, Katniss knew that the girl with her head half shaved, green ivy tattooed in the bare expanse, would be a perfect foil for Peeta. 

 

When Katniss got her promotion and Peeta and Johanna threw an impromptu celebration, Katniss had invited Cressida to stop by for drinks, with the ulterior motive of hopefully setting her best friend up for the last time. At least one half of the pairing was cooperating.

 

Katniss scowls at her best friend, angry at him for not even trying. She knows he hasn’t had anything beyond a third date in years. Hasn’t had sex in almost two, unless there’s been someone he hasn’t told her about. The sudden thought makes her scowl deepen.

 

“Nothing. There wasn’t anything in particular I  _ didn’t _ like about Cressida. And I don’t have impossible standards,” Peeta insists and Katniss scoffs. “I don’t. And you can’t make me fall in love with someone, Katniss, no matter how many women you try to throw at me.”

 

“I got you to go bungee jumping, didn’t I? And rock climbing, and skydiving,” she starts ticking off the things that Peeta would never have done if it weren’t for her.

 

“That’s different,” he murmurs.

 

After that, Peeta focuses on his breakfast and she uses the charged silence to examine him, studiously ignoring the way he’s massaging the arch of her foot. His phone dings with an alert that Cressida left a voicemail. Katniss snatches it off the table before Peeta can stop her and plays the message on speaker while Peeta glares daggers at her.

 

“Hi, Peeta. This is Cressida. I don’t know if you remember me. We met last night. I was the girl with the ivy tattooed all over her scalp. Hopefully that makes it easy to narrow down.”

 

Katniss grins at Peeta, gleefully enjoying the nervous tremor in Cressida’s voice and the twitch of his lips that tells her he appreciates Cressida’s dry wit.

 

“Maybe I’m being a bit forward here, but I know Katniss is your close friend. She gave me your number, and I have no idea why. Truthfully, it’s the first time I’ve openly hit on a girl and had her try to pawn me off on her male best friend.”

 

Peeta barks in laughter as Katniss flounders, confused while Cressida wraps up her message, something about letting Peeta know since she believes in honesty above all, and also wondering what a girl has to do to catch Katniss’ eye.

 

“I don’t understand,” Katniss says and Peeta stands from his chair, walking around the table to pull her to her feet and into a warm hug. She relaxes against his chest, rumbling in mirth, although she’s tempted to punch him in the balls right now.

 

“Katniss, you have no idea, the effect you have on people,” Peeta says and her face flames. He’s said stuff like this to her before. She wishes he wouldn’t. While a part of her knows he’s just being kind, a good friend, it makes her feel things she’d rather not. “She’s not interested in me. But she is interested in you.”

 

Feeling the sting of defeat, Katniss pushes away from him and swirls her remaining eggs around her plate, angry with herself for once again missing something important. Maybe Peeta is right. She’s terrible at this.

 

************************************

 

“What the hell is this?” Katniss asks, staring at the page Peeta is showing her on his phone.

 

“Taste of your own medicine,” Peeta says and she gapes at him.

 

“I’m not going on a blind date,” she says.

 

“Thought you wanted to help me end my dry spell,” Peeta says with a twist of his lips.

 

Ever since her botched attempt at matchmaking with Cressida, Katniss has laid off trying to set Peeta up with anyone. It’s becoming too frustrating. If he wants to live the life of a monk, that’s his problem. Luckily, Cressida took it all in stride, and has now been dating Katniss’ college room mate, Madge, for nearly six months.

 

Katniss grabs Peeta’s phone and looks at the Facebook profile he’s showing her, fighting back the urge to just start yelling at him for being obtuse. He knows she doesn’t want any kind of relationship. Those just come with expectations for the next level, something Katniss is not willing to explore just yet.

 

“I don’t get how me going on a blind date helps you break your dry spell,” she snaps. With a few swipes and clicks on the screen, Katniss finds herself staring at a profile of a beautiful woman. Wavy brown hair and arresting eyes that she can’t tell if they’re grey like hers or blue like Peeta’s. 

 

“This is Bristel,” Peeta explains. “She’s Darius’ best friend. But apparently she’s really shy and prefers to double date. So…” he draws out the last word expectantly.

 

Something unpleasant knots in her stomach. It’s the first time in years that Peeta has shown any real interest in a girl. And she hates it.

 

Katniss blinks at his earnest gaze, a thousand confessions on the tip of her tongue that she bites back. His happiness is more important. So she lifts one shoulder in acquiescence.

 

“Okay,” she says quietly and hates herself even more for the way she clings to him when he hugs her.

 

****************************************

 

“That was unexpected,” Peeta says with laughter in his eyes as they watch Bristel and Darius flee the restaurant, their hands clasped.

 

“Please,” Katniss scoffs. “He was too busy staring at her and looking like he wanted to kill you from the start to even notice me. I’ll bet he doesn’t even remember my name tomorrow.”

 

“Well, I’m happy for them,” Peeta says as the waiter stops by to ask if they want dessert. Katniss is just glad the other couple left money to pay their part of the bill before they ran off into the night. 

 

“Chocolate cheesecake?” Peeta asks Katniss and she smiles, knowing that Peeta must have caught her eyeing the ad for the dessert. Of course he knows exactly what she wants.

 

“Please,” she says in a long plea. Peeta smiles brightly and orders their dessert before turning back to her, his face suddenly serious and a bit...scared?

 

“Can you imagine?” he starts. “They’ve known each other their entire lives and are just now realizing how in love they’ve been. I mean it’s amazing and wonderful, but also a little sad. Think of all the time they’ve wasted.”

 

“Maybe,” Katniss says, grabbing her water glass and taking a deep sip. “Maybe one of them wasn’t ready.”

 

“Yeah, maybe,” Peeta says and ducks his head, his finger tracing patterns on the table cloth. “Guess you can’t make someone see how perfect they are for you until they’re ready to hear it.”

 

She nods, grateful for the cake with two forks placed between them, disrupting whatever Peeta was going to say next. The conversation is starting to feel less like it’s about Bristel and Darius and more like it’s about her and Peeta. Because if she’s being completely honest with herself, Darius wasn’t the only one plotting murder at this table. The second Peeta had turned on the charm and started flirting with Bristel, Katniss had wanted to sink her dinner knife in the other girl’s perfect breasts.

 

They finish their dessert and pay for dinner in near silence, both lost in thoughts. Her legs wobble as they make their way back to Peeta’s car, his hand resting lightly on the small of her back. His touch feels like it belongs there. Just light enough to make her feel protected and cherished but not overwhelmed.

 

As they drive back to her place, Katniss runs through their friendship, all the moments grand and small, trying to pinpoint when he became so vital to her life that she’d actually feel threatened by another woman in his life.

 

And she can’t.

 

Maybe she’s felt this way since he beat the shit out of Marvel against that dumpster. She’d never had the nerve to stand up to a bully before that day, and since then, he’s pushed her into a hundred things she never thought she could do, holding her hand the entire way. And hasn’t she done the same for him? She’s tried to, at least.

 

Peeking over at Peeta, she finds herself disappointed that he’s focused on the road. How many times has she glanced over at him to find his gaze on her before it darts away. But as she looks at him, he does glance her way, a slow smile stretching over his lips. Warmth spreads through her. Quiet and soothing. Not the torrent of passion her parents once claimed to have. And somehow, this feels more real. Maybe it’s always been real.

 

Her hands shake as they park and Peeta walks her to her door. She fiddles with her keys, searching for a reason to invite him in. It shouldn’t be difficult. He’s her best friend.

 

“Sorry that turned into a disaster,” Peeta whispers. “I really thought you and Darius would hit it off.”

 

“I don’t understand,” Katniss shakes her head. She’d thought he’d set up the date for himself. That she was basically a glorified wingman for this one.

 

“You’ve spent so much time trying to find someone for me, you didn’t even think about finding someone for yourself,” he says with a strained smile. “As your best friend, I felt it was my duty to help. I’m just sorry I failed so spectacularly.”

 

Her lips twitch at his hijacking of her words from the failure with Cressida.

 

“You don’t have to do that,” she says, straightening his tie, even though the date is over and in a few minutes, once she finally asks him to join her for Netflix and a beer or something, he’ll loosen it or remove it completely, draping it over the arm of her couch. “Besides, you can’t make someone fall in love with me.”

 

“I want you to be happy, Katniss,” he whispers. 

 

Her eyes flicker up to his and hold. The air in her lungs seizes as she hears the unspoken words she would add in her head if she were the one speaking.  _ Even if that’s not with me. _

 

“I promise, next time, I’ll do a better job of picking out blind dates for you,” he continues with a smile. But it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. Or maybe the light is playing tricks on her. She shrugs to dispel the sudden case of butterflies in her chest.

 

“I don’t want you to pick anymore dates for me,” she says softly, and she can see the second he takes her words the wrong way. Guilt and pain flash across his face, and she grabs the lapels of his jacket as he steps back from her, stopping his retreat. She fumbles for the words to explain it to him. 

 

_ Not unless it’s you. _

 

Terror slices through her as she feels the words struggling to get off her tongue. The pain and misery her father caused her mother and her and Prim choking them back. Peeta places his hands over hers, their warmth steadying. Constant and unwavering. A million memories surge through her, all the moments when Peeta’s hands and arms were the only steady thing in her world, even as they forced her to face her greatest fears.

 

There’s just one left, and she thinks that as long his arms are there for her, she can face this one, too. So she stands on her toes and presses her lips to his. For an instant, her world begins to tumble around her ears as Peeta remains motionless.

 

Then he turns them both, pressing her back against her door as his lips move with hers and he sighs into her mouth, the sound one of staggering depth and longing. It echoes in her heart as she winds her hands up to tangle in his hair and his drop to hold her body to his. 

 

With each second they kiss, her fears melt away, replaced with a growing hunger, a need like none she’s ever known. It terrifies her and she shudders, but Peeta’s arms wrap around and mold her closer, sheltering her from the rest of the world, and she knows at that moment. This would’ve happened anyway.

 

**************************************

 

The sounds of laughter echo through the backyard as children race around, lobbing water balloons at one another. The smells of a feast permeate the air and Katniss pauses at the large window in their kitchen to smile at the gathering of their extended family and closest friends. To savor the quiet of the house before she braves the crowd. To this day, she still hesitates at large gatherings.

 

A warm arm winds around her and pulls her closer. She sighs and relaxes against Peeta’s broad chest, absorbing his steadiness.

 

“You’re giving any toasts or speeches,” she says and he chuckles against her neck, the vibrations stirring the same hunger she felt that night they first kissed. She turns in his embrace, looking deeply into his blue eyes, running her fingers over the lines at their corners, etched there over years of laughter and smiles. “Because I don’t care if it is our fortieth anniversary. This time, you can’t make me.”


End file.
